The Shadow of Great Britain

488: Chapter 262: Core Technology (4K8)_2 488: Chapter 262: Core Technology (4K8)_2 Alas…

Back at the ball, I was really out of my mind.

How on earth did I set my sights on such a woman?

Free love, I only realize now how foolish the idea was.

Had I listened to my family’s arrangement and sought a good match in one of the other old Tory families, perhaps by now I’d have been riding high.

Instead of being forced from the Commons into the Courts after losing the election.”

Harrison consoled, “George, listen to yourself.

The position of a judge is no less prestigious than that of an MP.

As you know, in Britain, no one is allowed to interfere with judicial proceedings, not even the Prime Minister.

As long as you’re in court, your word is law.

Isn’t that better than being reprimanded by the bigwigs in the party?”

Norton snorted, “Bernie, you’re oversimplifying things.

If you don’t seek advancement and are content to just coast by in this position, coveting the annual salary of a thousand pounds and the pension upon retirement, then indeed, you have no need to heed those who lord it over us.

All you have to watch out for is not to offend His Majesty the King.”

But if you still aspire to climb higher, there’s really no difference between working in the Courts and in Parliament.

Perhaps I don’t have to deal with the Prime Minister and Cabinet Ministers publicly, and only need to answer to the Royal High Chancellor.

But…

the appointment or dismissal of the Royal High Chancellor is decided by the Prime Minister, so as long as I continue to aspire upwards, I can’t escape having to flatter and fawn over them.

Bernie, I’m not even thirty yet.

Do you really think I should just settle at this age?

I’ve still got a long road ahead of me.”

When Harrison heard Norton’s words, his palm tightening around his glass, he barely managed to calm the urge to punch him before asking, “George, however you slice it, you’re still better off than me.

Look what I’ve become now.

My political career is finished.

Back when they were collecting political donations from me, the Tory Party treasured me like a precious stone.

Now, just for a slight error, they discard me like worn-out shoes.

It was just a bit of personal indulgence, and it was my own money I was spending.

Look at me now, what have I become?”

At that, Norton said, “Bernie, you’re too careless.

Why did you have to seek out those streetwalkers?

London has its regular brothels, doesn’t it?

The prostitutes there…

ah, no, we can’t call them prostitutes anymore.

Bernie, it’s because of your case, and the public uproar that followed led by the Bishop of Exeter, that we must now call them courtesans or women of the night, otherwise it would be considered an insult to these ladies’ dignity.

Parliament and its bunch of fake moralists are quickest to act on such matters, all over a goddamn name change, even drafting a bill to specify the definitions.

As if changing the term suddenly means London has no more prostitutes.”

Harrison, having endured half the day, finally couldn’t resist making a sarcastic remark: “That’s right, George, you’re different from them; you’re the one who gets things done.

When Parliament introduced the ‘Oxford University Prostitution Act,’ you, a distinguished graduate of Oxford University, were first in the charge.

Any common or streetwalker wandering within the public thoroughfares, streets or roads of the Oxford University jurisdiction without sufficient reason to prove a lawful purpose is deemed an idle and disorderly person, and incurs criminal charges with apprehension and punishment of hard labor imprisonment for no more than one month under the ‘Vagrancy Act’ of 1824.

Look at how well-defined and explicit this law is, clear and concise without room for ambiguous interpretation, fully demonstrating your learnings from Lincoln’s Inn, and clearing the moral and health hazards for the subsequent generations at Oxford University.

Before I left the Tory Party, many new MPs with an Oxford education couldn’t resist giving you the thumbs up when you were mentioned.

Sir Peel was blind to talent.

Rebuking a strong supporter like you, he caused your turn to the legal profession.

The influence Tory Party lost by letting you go was no less significant than when they initially lost Viscount Palmeston.”

Norton, flattered beyond measure, responded modestly, “I’m ashamed, it was just a small contribution on my part.

Though, I too regret not being able to continue to serve Britain in the Parliament.

When I was studying at Oxford, I indeed suffered greatly from these prosti…

ah, no, these women of the night.

I remember, even before I stepped onto the campus for the first time, groups of ladies were already clinging to my arm, spouting strings of enthusiastic compliments, asking if I needed help, while the little rascals trailing behind them would take the opportunity to meddle with my belongings, and those ladies themselves were usually not so clean-handed.

Back then, I was still a student, and as the saying goes, ‘don’t engage in politics out of your station’, so all I had to do was to manage myself.

But once I became an MP, naturally, I had to work hard to clean up these deep-rooted bad habits.”

Harrison clapped repeatedly, “Truly befitting of you, George, full of ideals and capabilities.”

Maybe it was the influence of alcohol or Norton had been praised into disorientation, he blurted out, “Tsk…

But it seems I have a fateful connection with prostitutes.

First, I spearheaded the introduction of that bill in Parliament, and then, unfortunately, I married a shameless prostitute.

That slut Caroline, she was toyed with by Viscount Melbourne, yet she naively thought she had found true love.

Hah, does she truly believe Melbourne to be a good man?”